The Promise
by Laura Spudzmom
Chapter 8:
By the time she had made it back to her room, her giddiness from the kiss had taken a back seat to the more chilling memory of Jasper’s words. “I’ll be back around.”
She wasn’t stupid. Neither was she in denial. She had received his message and meaning clearly: He thought she smelled tasty and she was now the next choice on his menu.
She scowled. She’d be damned if she had come all this way, all this time, just to be drained like a juice box by the vampire that had fucked up her last relationship with his shitty control. She could see herself happy with Peter Whitlock damn it! Why was Jasper Hale such a persistent pain in her ass?
With anger overriding fright, she grabbed her satchel off the dresser and dug through, quickly finding the sheaf of papers her grandmother had packed for her.
Thumbing through them, she smirked when she located the one that outlined a spell of protection, quickly reading it over for a list of things she would need and memorizing the chant.
Candles, a ritual knife and a small pentagram that she could draw with chalk. Perfect. She would perform the spell now as she didn’t want to chance waiting. Who knew when he would decide he was thirsty?
Rolling the rug in the center of her floor quickly, she placed it to the side and drew out the pentagram with chalk she found in the satchel. Opening the bedside table drawer, she took out the store of white candles and counted out seven before placing the rest back and closing the drawer.
Setting everything up precisely, she made sure her door was locked and sat herself down in the center, lighting each candle around her and the one set directly in front of her before tossing the box of matches onto the bed and centering herself.
She began the chant quietly, her eyes closing as each candle flickered in the gentle air that now circled around her, completing the chant three times in succession.
Opening her eyes, she picked up the ritual knife and cleansed both sides of the blade with the flame of the candle in front of her before making a cut in the palm of her left hand. When the blood welled up, she raised her hand, speaking a prayer of goodwill and protection against vampires to the goddess before dripping her blood into the flame of the candle as an offering. When she did so, the flames all around her flared, the one consuming her offering flaring a bright blue; a clear indication of pleased acceptance.
Raising both hands, she closed with a prayer of thanks, the flames on all ritual candles extinguishing instantly when the prayer was complete.
She sat for a moment, basking in the feeling of subtle power that still flowed gently through and around her.
Rising from her place on the floor, she went to the basin, pouring a bit of water in a bowl and wetting a cloth. First she washed the blood off her hand and wrapped it with a clean dry cloth. She then grabbed the wet cloth and wrung it out with her good hand.
She had to take care of the pentagram on the floor. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that if anyone saw such a thing in her room, all hell would break loose. She had no idea what they did with suspected witches these days, and she sure as hell didn’t want to find out so she scrubbed all evidence from the floor and replaced the rug.
She put everything else away, changed and climbed into bed, a small smile on her face as she thought about the shock that Jasper would experience when he couldn’t touch her. She wasn’t sure just how the protection would manifest, but she had faith that it would, and that’s all that mattered at the moment.
With that last fleeting thought, her eyes slid shut and she fell into dreams of hazel eyes and and the memory of a heart racing kiss.
Bella was struggling with pinning a hat to her hair, trying to get ready for Peter to come by for their latest date. He was driving her out to a lake for a picnic and she was running late. It had been a month to the day since their first kiss and things were going well for them. Beyond well. They had shared many stolen kisses and chaste little touches, but it seemed that no matter how chaste the touch, it never failed to speed her heart or make her body long for more.
She smiled softly to herself as her fingers continued to fumble with the hat, her eyes unfocused as she reminisced with a barely audible sigh
To be completely honest, she was head over heels in love with him now and she was pretty sure he felt the same for her, although neither had said the words… yet. She’d been tempted to though, a few times now, but there was still that little part of her that was afraid. Afraid of being hurt again, afraid of being abandoned, and so she held her feelings close to her heart, just waiting for the right time.
She sighed and focused back on her task, her frustration building the more she struggled with the hat, when Mrs. Cuthbert approached her where she stood at the mirror, slapping her hands away good-naturedly and finishing the job.
Both of them froze however at the unmistakable sound of gunshots ringing out somewhere close by, Bella’s heart tripping in terror as her thoughts immediately went to Peter and his dangerous job as a Ranger.
She took off for the door, Mrs. Cuthbert hot on her heels. “Miss Isabella! You can’t go out there child! There’s shootin’ goin’ on!”
Bella shook off the woman’s restraining hand. “I have to! Peter’s out there! What if it’s him that gets hurt?!”
She yanked her arm out of the woman's grip and ran out the front door, turning left toward the sound of more shots that sounded like they were coming from somewhere close to the bank.
Her mind raced. She knew that if the bank was being robbed, Peter and Ray would be in the middle of it and tears of worry traced down her cheeks unnoticed by her as she ran.
When she was close, a man grabbed her and pulled her inside a storefront as she struggled to free herself. “Miss, please! You can’t go back out there! There’s men robbin’ the bank and shootin’ up the place!”
She pulled and struggled. “Please! I have to get to him! I have to see if he’s all right!”
“Who Miss?”
“Ranger Whitlock!”
The man shook his head. “No Miss, he’s doin’ his job and you’ll just distract him right now and maybe get yourself killed in the process. I have a daughter about your age and I’d want someone to keep her safe. Now get down and stay down. I can’t let ya go ‘till the shootin’ stops at least. Settle down girl and let him do his job.”
She slumped to the floor, tears overtaking her as she listened to the continued gunfire.
Just moments later, everything ceased, an eerie quiet hanging over the place that was broken suddenly by the sound of a voice calling out for the Doctor… A voice that was familiar to her, one that filled her with dread as she struggled up and raced out the door.
She lifted her skirts and ran down the middle of the street, spotting Ray standing just outside the bank, waiting on the Doctor. “Ray! Ray, where is he?! Where’s Peter?!”
He caught her and held her upper arms, trying to get her to calm down. “Miss Isabella, ya need to calm down now.”
She twisted a pulled but couldn’t get free. “You need to tell me what happened Ray, please! What happened?!”
“He’s been shot,” She gasped and turned her face toward the door of the bank. He caught her gaze again before speaking. “Listen now! I don’t think it’s too awfully bad.”
She choked on a sob. “Oh god Ray, let me go to him! I have to see him!”
He shook his head. “I don’t reckon he’d want ya goin’ in there just yet Miss. There’s dead men in there and it ain’t nothin’ a lady should be seein’. I’ll move him out as soon as the Doc says it’s oaky and then you can see him.”
Anger filled her and she met his gaze, her look fierce. “Ray, I respect you as his partner, but if you don’t let me go now, I’m gonna hurt you…I’m not sure how, but I will… and then I’m gonna go to him anyway. I really don’t give a damn about any dead bodies. I need to see him!”
He sighed and hung his head, peering up at her with a grimace as he let her go. “He’s gonna have my hide for this…”
She didn’t stick around to hear the rest, running into the door as soon as she was free. Her gaze traveled around the inside of the bank, shock filling her at the destruction of the place and the sight of none other than Mr. O’Hanlon, her fellow boarder, lying dead against a wall across the room.
Her stomach lurched at the sight of all the blood and bodies, and she looked away, doing her best to pull herself together. She had to focus on what was important; finding Pete.
“Peter! Where are you?!”
Hearing a shuffling noise and a grunt of pain from behind the counter, she rushed over, stepping over the body of what looked to be another bad guy as she made her way through to the back.
She finally saw him laid out on the floor, his eyes squeezed shut in pain as he tried to sit up, his left shoulder bloody.
“Oh Pete!” Ripping off a strip of material from the bottom of her dress, she fell to her knees next to him and placed a hand in the center of his chest, struggling against her aversion to all the blood that soaked his shoulder and upper arm. She placed the wadded up dress material against the wound and pressed gently but firmly and he gasped and groaned.
Her voice shook as she spoke to him, her hand smoothing the hair away from his ashen face. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
He opened his eyes as he tried to smile. “No sugar. Just my shoulder.”
Fresh tears filled her eyes and she leaned down, placing a soft kiss to his lips. Drawing back to meet those beautiful but pain-filled hazel eyes again, she knew she couldn’t hold back any more. She’d almost lost him and he never would have known…
“I love you Peter Whitlock, more than anyone in this world. More than this life, I love you.”
He slowly reached up and cupped her cheek with his good hand. “ Darlin’, you can’t even imagine how happy you’ve just made me.”
His moved his hand away from her face with a grunt of pain as he reached into his right pocket, drawing out a small box which he handed to her. “Been carryin’ that around for two weeks now, tryin’ to work up the gumption to tell you how I feel and to ask you.”
The tears kept coming as she stared at him in shock.
“Miss Isabella, I love you with all of my heart. Would you grant me the supreme honor of becoming my wife?”
She laughed in joy through her tears as she leaned down and kissed him again, whispering out against his lips, “I would be honored to be your wife Ranger Whitlock.”
By the time she had made it back to her room, her giddiness from the kiss had taken a back seat to the more chilling memory of Jasper’s words. “I’ll be back around.”
She wasn’t stupid. Neither was she in denial. She had received his message and meaning clearly: He thought she smelled tasty and she was now the next choice on his menu.
She scowled. She’d be damned if she had come all this way, all this time, just to be drained like a juice box by the vampire that had fucked up her last relationship with his shitty control. She could see herself happy with Peter Whitlock damn it! Why was Jasper Hale such a persistent pain in her ass?
With anger overriding fright, she grabbed her satchel off the dresser and dug through, quickly finding the sheaf of papers her grandmother had packed for her.
Thumbing through them, she smirked when she located the one that outlined a spell of protection, quickly reading it over for a list of things she would need and memorizing the chant.
Candles, a ritual knife and a small pentagram that she could draw with chalk. Perfect. She would perform the spell now as she didn’t want to chance waiting. Who knew when he would decide he was thirsty?
Rolling the rug in the center of her floor quickly, she placed it to the side and drew out the pentagram with chalk she found in the satchel. Opening the bedside table drawer, she took out the store of white candles and counted out seven before placing the rest back and closing the drawer.
Setting everything up precisely, she made sure her door was locked and sat herself down in the center, lighting each candle around her and the one set directly in front of her before tossing the box of matches onto the bed and centering herself.
She began the chant quietly, her eyes closing as each candle flickered in the gentle air that now circled around her, completing the chant three times in succession.
Opening her eyes, she picked up the ritual knife and cleansed both sides of the blade with the flame of the candle in front of her before making a cut in the palm of her left hand. When the blood welled up, she raised her hand, speaking a prayer of goodwill and protection against vampires to the goddess before dripping her blood into the flame of the candle as an offering. When she did so, the flames all around her flared, the one consuming her offering flaring a bright blue; a clear indication of pleased acceptance.
Raising both hands, she closed with a prayer of thanks, the flames on all ritual candles extinguishing instantly when the prayer was complete.
She sat for a moment, basking in the feeling of subtle power that still flowed gently through and around her.
Rising from her place on the floor, she went to the basin, pouring a bit of water in a bowl and wetting a cloth. First she washed the blood off her hand and wrapped it with a clean dry cloth. She then grabbed the wet cloth and wrung it out with her good hand.
She had to take care of the pentagram on the floor. She wasn’t stupid. She knew that if anyone saw such a thing in her room, all hell would break loose. She had no idea what they did with suspected witches these days, and she sure as hell didn’t want to find out so she scrubbed all evidence from the floor and replaced the rug.
She put everything else away, changed and climbed into bed, a small smile on her face as she thought about the shock that Jasper would experience when he couldn’t touch her. She wasn’t sure just how the protection would manifest, but she had faith that it would, and that’s all that mattered at the moment.
With that last fleeting thought, her eyes slid shut and she fell into dreams of hazel eyes and and the memory of a heart racing kiss.
Bella was struggling with pinning a hat to her hair, trying to get ready for Peter to come by for their latest date. He was driving her out to a lake for a picnic and she was running late. It had been a month to the day since their first kiss and things were going well for them. Beyond well. They had shared many stolen kisses and chaste little touches, but it seemed that no matter how chaste the touch, it never failed to speed her heart or make her body long for more.
She smiled softly to herself as her fingers continued to fumble with the hat, her eyes unfocused as she reminisced with a barely audible sigh
To be completely honest, she was head over heels in love with him now and she was pretty sure he felt the same for her, although neither had said the words… yet. She’d been tempted to though, a few times now, but there was still that little part of her that was afraid. Afraid of being hurt again, afraid of being abandoned, and so she held her feelings close to her heart, just waiting for the right time.
She sighed and focused back on her task, her frustration building the more she struggled with the hat, when Mrs. Cuthbert approached her where she stood at the mirror, slapping her hands away good-naturedly and finishing the job.
Both of them froze however at the unmistakable sound of gunshots ringing out somewhere close by, Bella’s heart tripping in terror as her thoughts immediately went to Peter and his dangerous job as a Ranger.
She took off for the door, Mrs. Cuthbert hot on her heels. “Miss Isabella! You can’t go out there child! There’s shootin’ goin’ on!”
Bella shook off the woman’s restraining hand. “I have to! Peter’s out there! What if it’s him that gets hurt?!”
She yanked her arm out of the woman's grip and ran out the front door, turning left toward the sound of more shots that sounded like they were coming from somewhere close to the bank.
Her mind raced. She knew that if the bank was being robbed, Peter and Ray would be in the middle of it and tears of worry traced down her cheeks unnoticed by her as she ran.
When she was close, a man grabbed her and pulled her inside a storefront as she struggled to free herself. “Miss, please! You can’t go back out there! There’s men robbin’ the bank and shootin’ up the place!”
She pulled and struggled. “Please! I have to get to him! I have to see if he’s all right!”
“Who Miss?”
“Ranger Whitlock!”
The man shook his head. “No Miss, he’s doin’ his job and you’ll just distract him right now and maybe get yourself killed in the process. I have a daughter about your age and I’d want someone to keep her safe. Now get down and stay down. I can’t let ya go ‘till the shootin’ stops at least. Settle down girl and let him do his job.”
She slumped to the floor, tears overtaking her as she listened to the continued gunfire.
Just moments later, everything ceased, an eerie quiet hanging over the place that was broken suddenly by the sound of a voice calling out for the Doctor… A voice that was familiar to her, one that filled her with dread as she struggled up and raced out the door.
She lifted her skirts and ran down the middle of the street, spotting Ray standing just outside the bank, waiting on the Doctor. “Ray! Ray, where is he?! Where’s Peter?!”
He caught her and held her upper arms, trying to get her to calm down. “Miss Isabella, ya need to calm down now.”
She twisted a pulled but couldn’t get free. “You need to tell me what happened Ray, please! What happened?!”
“He’s been shot,” She gasped and turned her face toward the door of the bank. He caught her gaze again before speaking. “Listen now! I don’t think it’s too awfully bad.”
She choked on a sob. “Oh god Ray, let me go to him! I have to see him!”
He shook his head. “I don’t reckon he’d want ya goin’ in there just yet Miss. There’s dead men in there and it ain’t nothin’ a lady should be seein’. I’ll move him out as soon as the Doc says it’s oaky and then you can see him.”
Anger filled her and she met his gaze, her look fierce. “Ray, I respect you as his partner, but if you don’t let me go now, I’m gonna hurt you…I’m not sure how, but I will… and then I’m gonna go to him anyway. I really don’t give a damn about any dead bodies. I need to see him!”
He sighed and hung his head, peering up at her with a grimace as he let her go. “He’s gonna have my hide for this…”
She didn’t stick around to hear the rest, running into the door as soon as she was free. Her gaze traveled around the inside of the bank, shock filling her at the destruction of the place and the sight of none other than Mr. O’Hanlon, her fellow boarder, lying dead against a wall across the room.
Her stomach lurched at the sight of all the blood and bodies, and she looked away, doing her best to pull herself together. She had to focus on what was important; finding Pete.
“Peter! Where are you?!”
Hearing a shuffling noise and a grunt of pain from behind the counter, she rushed over, stepping over the body of what looked to be another bad guy as she made her way through to the back.
She finally saw him laid out on the floor, his eyes squeezed shut in pain as he tried to sit up, his left shoulder bloody.
“Oh Pete!” Ripping off a strip of material from the bottom of her dress, she fell to her knees next to him and placed a hand in the center of his chest, struggling against her aversion to all the blood that soaked his shoulder and upper arm. She placed the wadded up dress material against the wound and pressed gently but firmly and he gasped and groaned.
Her voice shook as she spoke to him, her hand smoothing the hair away from his ashen face. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
He opened his eyes as he tried to smile. “No sugar. Just my shoulder.”
Fresh tears filled her eyes and she leaned down, placing a soft kiss to his lips. Drawing back to meet those beautiful but pain-filled hazel eyes again, she knew she couldn’t hold back any more. She’d almost lost him and he never would have known…
“I love you Peter Whitlock, more than anyone in this world. More than this life, I love you.”
He slowly reached up and cupped her cheek with his good hand. “ Darlin’, you can’t even imagine how happy you’ve just made me.”
His moved his hand away from her face with a grunt of pain as he reached into his right pocket, drawing out a small box which he handed to her. “Been carryin’ that around for two weeks now, tryin’ to work up the gumption to tell you how I feel and to ask you.”
The tears kept coming as she stared at him in shock.
“Miss Isabella, I love you with all of my heart. Would you grant me the supreme honor of becoming my wife?”
She laughed in joy through her tears as she leaned down and kissed him again, whispering out against his lips, “I would be honored to be your wife Ranger Whitlock.”
DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.